Why
by snowingstone
Summary: After Ron leaves in DH and Harry and Hermione are left alone in the tent, why was all she could think about. What will happen if Harry and Hermione admit to certain feelings? AU-ish after the dance in the tent. Please enjoy. I do not own Harry Potter.
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note: I have never done a Harry potter fic before and I hope you like it. This has been on my mind. At the moment it just a one shot but we will see where it goes or if it stays a one shot. Please enjoy.

~Snow

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It was nice there in the muted glow of the lantern in the tent. She missed her, well she didn't know how to think of Ron. She could still legitimately say he was a spoiled self-centered, prat she had ever had the privilege of knowing but there were those moments. Those small moments were he would put her before everything else. It was something she loved about him. Then he left them, ran away like a scared little boy afraid to get hurt. He gave up on Harry over a misunderstanding, but more than anything, he gave up on her, left her and took a piece of her with him. Ron was always jealous of Harry but she didn't know that he was jealous of Harry in this manner. True, a long time ago, she tentatively catered to her fantasies, but the boy-who-lived pushed everyone away and she could not risk her heart. There was no one else but Ron in terms of being romantic with another person.

Now there was no one there in that tent other than her and Harry and every time they were alone she always had the same questions. Why not her? She knew she settled with the red head that could be the sweetest boy in the world but she still had half her heart secretly stolen by her best friend. She glanced at Harry from her book and her eyes met his and then she glanced back down to her book. She swallowed and slipped a loose hair behind her ear and out of her face. She listened to the radio as he skimmed through the stations. Harry began doing that in place of Ron. She asked him once why he listed to the radio and his reply was to keep track of Death Eater activity but she had a feeling it was to keep track of Ron. Harry listened diligently to that radio for his friends name and every day his name wasn't heard Harry's shoulders slumped slightly relaxed.

Thought of their past flew through Hermione's mind and so deep she fell into her thoughts that she didn't realize the radio stopped skipping to another station and a soft melody filled the tent. Then she saw gentle fingers creep over the edge of the book and as she looked up she let Harry take the book from her hands. And put the book on a small table open pages down so she wouldn't lose her place and he did what she wished he would have done three years ago. He gallantly placed his hand in hers and silently asked her to dance. There were no words just two people in that tent in the middle of a hunt for horcruxes and a war dancing. Hermione laughed for the first time in days as Harry tried to dance and he gave up to just trying to do the best he could. A quicker song found them relaxing and having fun, but it was the next song that made Hermione come undone. Harry gently pulled Hermione to his and swayed them back and forth. It was when her arms went around his shoulders to close the distance that a dam burst. With Harry's arms around her waist, she shed pools of tears into his strong shoulder. She felt him tense as if he were to run from her and create that trademark distance out of fear of hurting her but he held her and left her cry. When to song was over he gently broke from her and turned to radio off and put on a kettle for tea. She sat down and collected herself by the time he came back and sat at the table with her. The look of concern almost broke her heart. Yes, she had been with the wrong boy all this time.

"He never asked me to dance. In all these years he never asked me to dance," Hermione toned quietly around possible sobs. Harry only nodded and then reached across the table to hold her hand. She let her hand be held, she let herself be comforted by the one person who could break her heart worse that Ron ever could. When the tea kettle whistled Harry made to move but Hermione would not let go of his hand.

"I'll be right back Hermione. I promise."

Hermione felt like a fool. She could see Harry walk the 5 steps to the camp stove and pour the tea but she felt he would not come back. When she watched him she saw the man he had become but the boy he still was. He was considerate, loyal, and above all honorable. It didn't matter that he was handsome, or his family was one of the noble pure blood families. What mattered was the way he treated everyone, muggle born or pure blood with the same respect and tolerance. That was why she loved him. He was simply Harry, a defender, a protector, and a fighter for what he believed in.

"Harry," she began as he placed the tea in front of her, "Never mind. I'm just a little out of it." She left it at that and sipped her tea.

"You can always talk to me Hermione."

"That goes both ways Harry," Hermione bit off her comment hearing her own voice yelling at her friend. She sighed.

"Why Harry?" She asked looking in the tea cup. There was no response so she looked up to find Harry looking at her with a confused look and cock to his head. She swallowed and gathered her courage.

"Why was I never chosen to be with you Harry?" she whispered. However, judging by the look on Harry's face it had the same impact as if she yelled it in to an echoing cavern.

"Did you want me to choose you Hermione?" Harry asked looking into his own cup. Then they looked at each other. Really looked and saw all of those secrets that where hidden.

"Yes."

There it was out in the open and there were now no secrets she had hidden from him. She felt her heart beat faster that a hummingbird wing flutter. Then Harry shifted and straightened his back and Hermione knew she was about to be hurt.

"I have no one Hermione. I might die tomorrow and I don't want to do that to a lover. I don't want to fall in love with another person for fear of disappearing tomorrow. How would you feel if you heard Ron's name on the radio?"

"Horrible, and responsible. We could have kept him here. But he left us Harry, he left your side."

"And yours Hermione," Harry paused, "Can I confess something to you?" Hermione nodded and urged him to tell her everything.

"Cho, Ginny, they were people I felt compatible with because I felt the one person I wanted was already taken, by a red headed wizard with wonderful redeeming qualities but balanced by horrible qualities as well. I felt the girl I wanted, and needed would never want me back."

"Then she would have been stupid."

Hermione reached across the table and found Harry's hand. All these years they could have been together.

"Hermione, do you still want me to choose you?"

All Hermione could do was nod sadly. Both of them had people that needed the clean break or to know there was no promise of a future with Ginny or Ron to advance this relationship.

"Harry," Hermione began but she was stopped.

"Hermione, please give me till the end of this war. IF we are both still here and feel the same way I would love to ask you to dance again."

All Hermione could do was nod and agree and wish for all those tomorrows she dreamed of. It did not escape her that Harry stopped talking about not surviving the war, it was now a possibility he would fight to live.


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note: I had some great feedback from a few of you all here on FF through PM's and reviews and was asked if this was a one-shot of a story. In all actuality it was going to be a one-shot until I was asked to try to continue. So ill give it a try, one one-shot at a time. Thanks for your reviews and kinds words.

~snow

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Well hell it sucked for Harry as he looked at his snapped wand in his hands. In the icy cold and his butt getting wet from the snow he was angry. Hermione snapped his wand and he needed to be away from her. He needed space. It wasn't because she broke his wand with that reflected blasting curse, it was totally different.

It was the way she made him feel. He did not want to admit it to Hermione but he loved her with all he had. Trolls in bathrooms be damned, it was when she was petrified by that hellish basilisk in their second year that the stings of his heart unraveled and tied themselves loosely to her. His stomach fell into a bottomless void when he saw her on that bed still as death. Then the touches, innocent as he saw her gravitate towards Ron in their third year, sent shivers through his body and the hair on his arms to stand as if shocked by electricity. It was when she socked Draco he knew. He loved her but he felt it was done. Ron had won her and never known it. Adventure after adventure they had and she was there. He gave up on his feelings for her. When he kissed Cho, he was kissing her. Her lips against his, and then Ginny. It wasn't fair how he used Ginny. Her kisses were like firewisky, yes, but he was not intoxicated by the mere proximity of her presence.

Again he turned his snapped wand over and over in his hands when he heard her steps. He memorized the cadence of her stride many years ago and wasn't startled. He looked up in front of him and sparks flew as she handed over her wand.

"I'm so sorry Harry," Hermione apologized guiltily. Harry couldn't help it. He stretched the blanket he had draped over his knees and put it on the ground. She took the invitation and sat silently and stared into space, both pondering different things, and for once he was glad he was not a mind reader. Her wand sat on the blanket and he picked it up and tried to levitate a small branch and accidentally blew it up. Both shielded their faces and then looked at one another shocked.

"Wicked," Harry whispered and smiled. Hermione couldn't help but laugh and it was great to see her smile on her pale pink lips. Harry shook his head.

"Sharing things with you will have to take some time," Harry chuckled. Hermione sat there and placed her head on his shoulder and he fought the instant urge to put his arm around her shoulders. People needed closure, Ron more than anyone needed that. He respected his friend too much to steal his girl from him without a clean break one way or another.

"My ass is cold," Harry smiled as he stood up. Hermione laughed once more as he helped her up. Harry agreed to check the perimeter with their shared wand. He turned once he heard the rustling of the tent and glanced out over the camp. He stood silent, alert to any sound then walked slowly to the edge of their concealing spell. The full moon shone bright that night and gave the snow an eerie blue hue. The small creek that was fed by a small but deep pond made Harry nervous. He would never admit this to Hermione or Ron but he felt the Death Eaters out there, watching the air, and hated the shadows and concealed hiding spots.

He saw his breath cloud in front of him and he turned toward the tent satisfied they were safe till morning then he froze, and cocked his head. There in the thicket were the pond hid was a glow, bright a soft blue. Harry swallowed and turned Hermione's wand over in his hand as he gripped it tightly ready to blast the hell out of anything that shone. Animals could not be trusted it was all too possible for what he saw to be an animagus, except for one thing. A brightly glowing doe, standing on the pond looking at Harry, knowing he was there. The patronus doe scuffed the ground then looked down at the ice. Harry gulped and walked past the borders of their protection then walked toward the majestic sight. Again the patronus scuffed the ice it stood on and Harry looked down and saw a glint of metal, slightly illuminated in the bottom of the pond. Harry with one last glance blasted a hole in the ice, shed his shoes and socks and dove. He gasped as he hit the water as pin pricks stabbed his skin from the ice cold water. He dove and tried to push it aside except for one thing. He wore the horcrux, and it ran, and for a moment in the water Harry would swear it screamed out in terror. It pounded the ice and shot through by a tiny hole. It began to strangle him. As he yanked and fought he realized and he fought the horcrux that his fear fed the dark shattered piece of a soul in the container. As he felt his last breath leave his body in that icy prison his last thought was Hermione. Clichéd yes, but he wished he could have drank of her lips just once before he died.

Life was breathed into his lungs and he coughed up water, painfully. He turned to the side to find Ron over him, giving him air.

"You ok Harry?" asked the worried red head. Harry nodded and then remembered the reason why he was on the verge of death then lunged toward the hole in the pond.

"Harry James Potter stop right there," demanded Hermione's sweet voice. Then he saw her. The look on her face and the then the shinning object in her hands. Ron Helped Harry up and he strode gingerly to her.

"Is this what you are looking for?" asked Hermione dripping wet and shaking. Harry shook his head and wrapped his arms around her. He relished the sensation of contact with Hermione and could never let her go again and all he did for long solid moment was hold her. He pulled away and looked into Hermione's eyes and she understood in that moment without words.

"I am looking at what I am looking for," Harry whispered and then, "I'm sorry to have worried you," then turned towards Ron, "Both of you. I'm glad you are here mate."

Harry then pulled away from Hermione but remained close. He would not and could not hide his heart from his friend. He needed to make his intentions known. The look on Ron's face tore at Harry. The mask of betrayal and pain hurt.

"I came back because this light inside of me led me back to Hermione," Ron admitted stonily. Hermione gasped slightly and Harry stepped away. He took the sword from her and told them they need to get warm.

Once in the tent Ron, Harry, and Hermione changed clothes gathered by the fire. The silence was unbearable. Ron looked from Harry to Hermione. Accusations written on his face. Hermione saw it before Harry and it came like a storm watched on the horizon and quickly upon the beach of Harry and Hermione's safety.

"How the hell could you Harry? What the hell kind of friend are you to steal …."

"Ronald Billious Weasly, you will desist in your accusations," Hermione saw she had his attention and then turned as Harry stood and touched her shoulder and looked into her eyes a silent message conveyed. Harry left for bed, and in the privacy allotted Hermione braced for impact.

"You have no right," began Hermione. When Ron went to object she cut him off.

"You left us all because it was too hard. Do you not know what we had been through? Sure we have not been injured but we did not RUN! We did not abandon YOU! As for Harry…" Hermione breathed and lowered her tone and continued, "You left us for weeks. Harry and I have talked, really talked Ronald. When have we ever talked?"

She waited for a response and received none then she continued, "Did you even REALLY love me?"

Silence met her question and she let him think, mull it over. She knew her old boyfriend was an idiot but this was absurd.

"I thought so. You were jealous of Harry getting something. Then you wanted the same thing you went for it. It's an old story Ron, and I was stupid for falling for it."

"If he touched you I will kill him."

"Then you will kill an innocent man."

Hermione watched as she saw Ron worked through that statement. Finally she saw his shoulders relax, and his head hang low.

"You are the reason why I'm here Hermione."

"Then you are here for an empty reason that cannot be returned," Hermione said as she put her hand on her friends shoulder. Ron turned from her, hurt and vulnerable and she turned to go to her bunk.

It wasn't until later that Harry, never sleeping but hearing everything, met Ron in front of a fire. He placed his hand on his friends shoulder and motioned outside with the sword of Godric Griffindor in his hands. As they reached a toppled tree in a clearing Harry removed the horcrux from around his neck and breathed deeply for the first time in a very long time. Harry handed the sword to Ron and Ron looked at Harry stupidly.

"You deserve to be the hero Ron. Kill it. It's all in you."

Ron nodded and accepted Harry's peace offering and gripped the sword and it opened. They were there embraced. Taunting him, enticing him to fall into anger. Ron remembered Hermione's words. _You would be killing an innocent man._ And screamed. He hacked once at the locket and he was thrown back from the force. Harry came to him with the locket and a smile.

"Well done mate," Harry praised.

"I hate you two being together," Ron spoke to Harry's turned back. Then Harry turned and tossed the locked at Ron.

"Keep it as your kill Ron. As for Hermione and me, we are not together, but we are not apart. Get used to it or go home like you did last time."

With that Harry walked away and Ron watched flabbergasted. Then he realized nothing was set in stone.

"Do you love her?" yelled Ron at Harry's retreating form. Harry turned around and looked at his friend.

"Yes," then he paused, "But only if she chooses me." Then Harry walked into the tent leaving Ron in the cold. It was then that Ron saw how his behavior was never worthy of Hermione.


	3. Chapter 3

Authors Note: I was told that I am basically doing the scenes in a movie that you never get to see as if filling some of the blanks by doing these AU story one shots. After reading a few I might have to agree. I took out the getting caught by snatchers and just had the group get caught at Lovegood's. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for all of the wonder reviews and Messages.

~Snow

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The atmosphere in the tent screamed with pressure at breakfast the next morning. Hermione swallowed her food politely but could barely get the food to her stomach. It wasn't that Ron's cooking was horrible, it was quite passable. It was the tension between Harry and Ron. Suddenly she felt her new and budding relationship with Harry begin to slip from her fingers like water through a coffee filter. When Ron sat down she was flanked by both Harry who was silently chewing his oatmeal and avoiding eye contact with anyone, and Ron who kept a pleasant smile on his face and was attentive to every word that came out of her mouth. Uncomfortable was an understatement. Here was the boy she craved for years and he basically said yes if they survive, and here was the boy she almost settled for. Looking from boy to boy Hermione stood and left her empty bowl on the table. Absorbed by her dilemma she did not notice that Ron had not shut up since he sat down. She stepped outside in the cold crisp air and felt her world lighten. There was a small explosion in the tent but when she turned into the opening Harry and Ron sat next to a light with wide eyes. Harry and a wand in his hand that was not hers, or Ron's.

"Ron gave me a wand," Harry confessed still looking at the flame. Hermione couldn't help that adorable look on his face as laughter peeled from her. The three of them shared a great laugh as Harry tried to levitate the flame but not the glass and instead of a floating flame the small light shot like a rocket out of the roof of the tent. Harry looked directly at Hermione. She knew she gave him the look of death and almost demanded that Harry James Potter fix their tent when Ron popped up and flew out of the tent.

Hermione sat next to Harry on the bunk but found that words would not come. Her fears began to get the better of her. Her fears of Harry shutting down again and looking only at the mission ahead, Harry leaving what only just blossomed between them as an uncultured flower about to waste away.

"Do you still want to be with me now that Ron had returned?" Harry whispered.

Her head snapped to look at him, find his emerald eyes. When they met her own she saw in his eyes her reflected fears. Hermione did what she felt was natural and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, a promise that she had not changed her mind. Hermione saw Harry relax and reach out to hold her hand and she gave it willingly. After a few moments of peaceful silence Harry shattered the silence with important information.

"Ron told me there is a trace of You-Know-Who's name. That's why there were so close all this time. When you say his name aloud Death Eaters show up in moments to kidnap or kill you. Ron learned this off the snatcher he got this wand from. I guess there is a curse to saying his name," Harry said as he raked a hand through his hair. Hermione tried to calculate. How many times had they used Voldemort's name in the past few days. She could not remember but she did feel it was time to move, just in case.

"I have information too. That symbol in the book is also on a letter in the book by Rita Skitter," Hermione paused as Ron came through the door with a grin on his face as he wiped his hands in triumph over fixing the tent. Harry and Ron looked at one another, Ron looked to her and their hands and sat down with a dark face but nothing hostile.

"We don't have any idea where a new horcrux is and no new path. I think we need to visit Mr. Lovegood." Hermione stopped as Harry popped up from the bunk.

"Oh course, I saw that on a chain around his neck at the wedding. I trust you lets go," then Harry turned to Ron, "That alright with you mate?"

It was as if that small concession, or acknowledgement of presence was enough to placate Ron. Ron's features lifted and a smile came to his lips, and nodded. Off to Mr. Lovegood's house they go.

_**HP HP HP**_

Hermione waved in and out of consciousness like a shoreline pushing forward then receding back into the sea. The only reason why she was not completely knocked out was the curse Bellatrix Lestrange cast on her so she can feel every exquisite slide of the knife as she tried to extract information.

_How did you get that sword?_

_How did you get into my vault?_

_Who are you?_

All of those questions were spat at her as Bellatrix's cursed blade cut out the letters MUDBLOOD. The would not close and after long torturous hours the loss of blood, the kicks, the punches, and Crucios, Hermione was never given that lovely reprieve of blackness, death, or extended unconsciousness.

Mr. Lovegood called the Death Eaters with Voldemort's jinxed name, there was a fight after Harry, Hermione and Ron figured out the meaning of the symbol. In the rumble the Death Eaters had them pined and Hermione cast a stinging curse at Harry to disfigure him. Once to Malfoy manor they were interrogated and brought before Draco. Hermione gave them a false name but correct lineage, Harry was practically invalid by the time the swelling kicked into full gear as he drooled, and mumbled and couldn't see as Hermione stuffed his glasses in his pocket before they were taken.

Screams, and more screams, until Hermione could scream no more. She looked at her arm and tears fell. All because she was not a pureblood she had to endure this. She closed her eyes and let pain slide away. Blackness finally welcomed her until there were arms around her tugging her away and spells flying overhead. Shapes fought, and fell. Then the disorienting feeling of being disapparated caused her entire body to give out both mentally, and physically.

_**HP HP HP**_

There was a voice rich and beautiful pulling her from dreams of her and a green eyed boy. Those dreams she will admit were not for children but would never admit what actually made her body tingle in that realm visions.

"_**Flying into Australia, I realized with a sigh that I had forgotten again who their prime minister is. I am forever doing this with the Australian prime minister…."**_

Hermione opened her eyes and saw Harry in a rocking chair reading from a tattered book of hers called _In a Sunburned Country_ by Bill Bryson. It was a book she constantly read to feel close to her parents and seeing Harry in a rocking chair reading to her sleeping form was the most endearing and beautiful gesture any person has ever done for her. He looked up and saw her eyes and smiled, closed the book and pulled the chair a little closed to take her hand.

"Don't stop you were doing great," she softly croaked making Harry smile.

"Its very tattered," Harry commented as he came close to her.

"When I obliviated mom and dad I they went to Australia and it was my way of going with them," Hermione whispered. She never told anyone about her parents, and what she did and Harry only nodded understanding the sacrifice she made. Sure she was never injured like Ron but technically he still had his family. Hermione and Harry were orphans of war in a way.

Hermione watched as he gently picked up her other arm and peeked under her dressings and reached for the bed side. She watched as he slowly cut through the dressing then threw it into the fire near her bed. Then took a basin willed with water and a cloth and cleaned her wounds. Each and every time he softly pulled the cloth over the wound he murmured an incantation.

"What are you doing? What language is that? What's the name of that spell?" rattled off Hermione and all Harry did was smile and continue his task. Hermione could feel her skin tingle after each incantation but could not look at her arm. Harry continuing his incantation applied a salve and re-wrapped her arm in clean dressings. He sat back and looked at her with the most peculiar look on his face.

"What?" she croaked unsettled? Harry did nothing but shake his head and look at her, into her. She would never know he took those moments to read to her, nurse her wounds, study her, and memorize her mouth, nose, the slope of her brow. She would never know how much love he showed in those private moments.

"You are beautiful, Hermione," Harry stated firmly causing Hermione to blush.

"No I'm not. I must look a fright. I just got the hell tortured out of me. I must look horrible," Hermione stammered nervous as she tried to flatten her frizzy hair back away from her face. IT was then Hermione paused. She didn't hurt. Her face wasn't swollen, her carved arm felt fine, her ribs were healed. She turned her eyes to Harry.

"How long have we been here?" She whispered. She finally saw Harry's smile waver.

"A few weeks," he whispered then flinched.

"Are you telling me I have been in a coma for WEEKS?!" Hermione raged and Harry just sat back in his rocking chair waiting for her to tire out and she did. She did however take the dressing off her arm as Harry protested and saw only the thinnest lines in her skin that barely spelled out the word MUDBLOOD. She slid her hand over the wound and pulled her fingers back. The cursed blade made sure she would bleed out, not her skin was, healed, but hurt to apply pressure. She looked to Harry.

"We made it to the Shell Cottage with Dobby's help. He didn't make it… I buried him on a dune overlooking the sea. I think he would have liked it. I had blisters for days, but it was worth it. We were looking into your condition and I needed something physical to do and once done with honoring Dobby, then it hit me, you would have books on any kind of wounds and their cures, from cursed to paper-cuts, so I went into your library. Turned out your library helped a lot. We found a book on how to make potions for counter cursing magical weapons. Thanks you very much for having your entire library coded according to topic so it was easy to find. Then Fleur was able to make the potions. In school she was apparently famous for making to best healing and cosmetic potions. So to answer your questions from earlier I was applying the counter curse topically along with a cosmetic, I was speaking in veela, and I have no idea what the potion is called. I wasn't paying attention. All I cared about was you," Then Harry reached for Hermione's healing arm and placed his lips in a sweet gesture, "I never want you to hate wizards, and I never want you to wish you were anything else other than what you are. Mudblood is a disgusting word for a muggle born witch who is far more talented than all of us combined." Hermione only nodded, smiled and squeezed Harry's hand as she drifted to sleep.

* * *

_In a Sunburned Country_ by Bill Bryson is a real travel novel written in 2000 and felt it was a nice hit on where Hermione's parents went and it was a way to keep them close to her.


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